


a conjuring turn

by orphan_account



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, but like it's fine LOL, this is entirely self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22228417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: a young mistoffelees, then named quaxo, is orphaned by macavity. he's trained to be a weapon to take down the jellicles, believing that they were responsible for the death of his parents. rum tum tugger, bitter at his mother grizabella's betrayal and annoyed with his brother, munkustrap's, over-protective nature, strays from the scrapyard and finds this strange cat. he defeats him in battle and takes him back to the scrapyard where quaxo learns macavity has lied to him about who the jellicles really are- and what he's truly capable of.
Relationships: Alonzo/Demeter/Munkustrap (Cats), Mr. Mistoffelees/Rum Tum Tugger
Comments: 3
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is https://mrmistoff.tumblr.com/ !! head over there for more cats content and occasional drabbles!! <3

it was one of those nights where the earth seemed to reject itself. blinding flashes of lightning trailed house-rattling thunder in a grotesque pas de deux. in a half-rotted dresser, a new mother curled herself around her kitten, still blind to the world and at its mercy. the father cracked the drawer to survey the storm, worry pulling into his brow.

“macavity’s out there,” he said. 

“i know,” she said, nuzzling her newborn closer.

“we should move,” he said. “this storm is his-”

“you’re being paranoid,” she interrupted, lifting her head to look at him. “come back to sleep. he won’t find us here, we’re safe.”

“he can find us anywhere,” he said, eyes never once peeling from the trees and their branches contorting to the wind’s will. he wanted to focus on that little tiny bundle of fur, born only a few days ago and full of unclaimed potential. but he couldn’t, not when he knew the most feared cat had sensed the kit’s magic. he’ll be here any day now. _any second, really._

the kitten mewed, as if sensing his father’s anxiety, and perhaps he had. the father looked one last time out into that dark night before pulling the drawer closed and winding himself around his family.

and perhaps as a small courtesy, the couple were killed in their sleep. easy and painless, a quick jolt of magic between the ears carrying them to a new life. their kitten cried, but he never knew for what. spindling claws cocooned around him, picking him up and bringing him close to tinsel fur. 

“i never learned what name they gave you,” came the easy voice of his captor. “but it’s no matter. i’m sure whatever it was was terribly unfitting of the force you are to become.” 

macavity stared down at the little tuxedo cat. perhaps he was a perfect blend of his mother and father, but really, macavity never cared enough to memorize their faces. all he could see were those little sparks of magic bristling along black fur, and that aura of untapped power that encompassed him. he would be mighty. he would help to bring about the reign of macavity, the true heir to the jellicle throne.

“quaxo, i’ll call you,” macavity said. “my dear little quaxo.” 

* * *

under the hidden paw’s guidance, quaxo thrived. he blossomed as did any captive flower in a greenhouse, mistaking the tinted glass for the world outside. he had been told his parents were killed by the jellicles, but macavity spared him the details. as a young kit he frequently had nightmares, imagining two cats who must have loved him being burned alive, or strangled, or clawed at until there was nothing but mangled skin. he would wake up screaming to an empty room and the cold glare of the jellicle moon.

he never made the mistake of calling macavity his father. all of his raising was done by the interchangeable swarm of macavity's hench-rats. he only saw him when they discussed war strategy- _for this battle to usurp deuteronomy would be a war_ \- or when quaxo was to be tutored in magic. of course, being a fabled and sought-after prodigy, he immediately excelled in his lessons. quaxo was most interested in exploring light and illusions, beautiful images of rainbows unspooling in mid-air or roses dancing wondrously around him. but macavity would always scold him for indulging in distractions.

“remember what they did to your parents,” macavity would say, in that cool voice just barely masking unparalleled resentment. “you have to concentrate, quaxo, if you ever wish to enact your vengeance.” 

and so, quaxo would concentrate. he would flick his tail, twitch his nose, and furrow his brow, eyes trained on the ball of light nestled between his palms. and that light would grow and grow, until all he could think about was blinding heat, and flames licking at fur. they would practice in abandoned homes, and soon, quaxo was able to destroy whole pieces of furniture with a single blast. maybe macavity was proud, but if he was, he never said it. to quaxo, this was simply expected of him.

it was a morning much like the others, where one of macavity’s hench-rats woke him up and instructed quaxo to meet macavity outside. quaxo was older now, out of his kittenhood, but still struggling to learn how to be independent under macavity’s suffocating guidance. but outside the sun beamed in the full glory of mid-summer, the grass outside was idyllic in its green hues, and the sky was unabashadley blue. quaxo absent-mindedly thought he’d like to be outside more, but the threat of the jellicles kept him content with the confines of the shed- macavity’s den.

“where are we going today?” quaxo asked.

“someplace new,” macavity said, toying with quaxo’s anxiety. “someplace exciting.”

“someplace fun?” he asked.

“no,” macavity said. “someplace dangerous.”

“oh,” quaxo said.

the rest of the walk was silent. as the shed and the only home quaxo had ever known disappeared from view, he felt any sense of steadiness leave him. quaxo had never thought much of his life- days spent rehearsing deadly magic or sitting alone in his room talking to himself or little dolls he had created out of salvaged fabric scraps. he always knew he was lonely. but he could feel energy radiating through his every vein, uncontrollable and deadly, and he knew he was always meant to be a weapon. he was never meant to have a family of course. _silly quaxo,_ he thought, _not even your parents cared enough to fight for you_. his mind turned to their decaying faces, which were really just his own face duplicated. his stomach flipped.

“can we go back?” quaxo finally asked, immediately regretting it as the words left his mouth.

macavity paused. he scoffed, and turned to face his protege.

“go home?” macavity mocked. “ _go home?!_ and what home would that be? that miserable place we call a lair? the scrapyard could easily swallow that wreckage whole, and you dare to sacrifice the birthplace of all jellicles for some termite-infested wood?”

“i’m sorry,” quaxo said, feeling incredibly small against the endless horizon. “you’re right.”

“of course i’m right,” macavity snapped. “now come. it is time to reclaim my throne.”

as the scrapyard neared into sight, quaxo swallowed. he realized, finally, what they were doing. like a mirage in the desert, he approached the home of the tribe at last. then tonight must be the jellicle ball- and the last night of deutoronomy’s last life.


	2. Chapter 2

tugger was just a kit when his mother took her eldest son in the night and ran. to save macavity from deutoronomy’s judgement, grizabella had sacrificed any involvement in her two other sons' lives. and of course, she never could have imagined leaving munkustrap or tugger behind. but she also never could have imagined that her mate would exile one of their children, no matter how misguided or sinister he appeared to be. 

she was sure she could save him. but of course, about a week after leaving the tribe, macavity disappeared with all of their food and left grizabella starving and alone. tugger was too young to understand any of this. so he would simply curl up with his brother and ask when mom and macavity were coming home, and the answer would always be “soon.” and then days passed, and weeks passed, and “soon” became nothing more than a frayed string of fate. tugger learned to stop asking.

unlike his brother, he was an adventurous kit. he was always found climbing something, or rummaging through forgotten human junk to find little treasures. he fancied himself a rugged explorer, and learned to fight through various scuffles with rats and mice. he wanted to be a protector like his brother, but he never wanted the responsibility that came with it. and so he decided he would only be responsible for protecting himself.

as he grew older he discovered his rugged ways attracted a certain sort of attention. even as he found himself no longer a kitten, he retained some boyish charm that the older cats found endearing and the younger found alluring. he’d frequently roam about victoria grove, getting into fights with other toms or teasing the queens with the hint of a relationship. but in the end, tugger was tugger, and he wore the adjective “non-committal” as a medal. he would always slink back to the scrapyard and tell tales of his conquests, and refused to care about his mother or macavity any longer. he was free.

on the day of the jellicle ball, he really should have been practicing. but to tugger, if he knew he had a night of pirouettes and grand jetés, why shouldn’t he spend the day lazing in the sun? he climbed to the top of a rusted car, his favorite perch, and looked upon his kingdom. munkustrap was busy with his two mates, going over plans and worst case scenarios. alonzo gave munkustrap and demeter a reassuring smile and demeter pulled them both into a group hug, and tugger almost gagged. _ugh, true love,_ he thought, like some cynical high schooler in a teenage rom-com. 

it was then that he saw two figures on the horizon. with bared teeth and a growl he narrowed his eyes. _macavity._ there seemed to be another cat, black and white like any true jellicle, but he couldn’t tell who he was. he seemed only a little younger than tugger, which gave him pause- he was sure he’d remember if someone around his age ran off. but it was no matter. _maybe i should tell munk?_ he wondered, before allowing himself a small chuckle. _no. he’ll only hold me back._

he jumped from the car, pouncing onto some junk before navigating to the grass. the sun seemed to stroke its fingers through his teased fur, and tugger felt that wonderful exhilaration that preceded a fight. he’d always be a rowdy stray, and he was proud. he hid behind a weathered book-case before watching macavity walk away from the unknown cat. he seemed to be scouting out an entrance, leaving the tuxedo cat to stand guard. tugger smirked. _his mistake._

without giving him time to react, tugger leaped, throwing his full force towards the black cat. to his surprise, there was no resistance, and he found them both rolling onto the grass. the black cat struggled beneath him, but tugger had his paws pinned. to his shock, there seemed to be light pooling at the tops of the black cat’s claws, but it fizzled before it could do any real damage.

“who are you?” tugger demanded, letting the black cat see the full sharpness of his teeth.

“just let me go!” the black cat said. his face warbled with fear, and tugger felt a shred of empathy. but only for a moment. 

“we’re going to get up. slowly,” tugger said in an authoritative tone that would surely make munk proud. “i’m going to keep your paws pinned behind you, and if you so much as say ‘boo’, i won’t hesitate to claw your eyes out. understand?” 

the black cat nodded. tugger cautiously let up off of him, making sure to keep full control of the black cat’s paws. he noticed tears starting to creep out of the black cat’s eyes and the awful way that his breathing hitched. _how did this pitiful thing ever end up working with macavity?_ tugger stood at his full height and held the black cat’s paws pressed against his back. they walked back to the scrapyard, tugger hyper aware for any signs of macavity’s presence. it seemed, as usual, he had disappeared without a trace.

munkustrap met them at the entrance to the yard, his confusion more than apparent.

“who is this? where were you? what’s going-”

“munk, relax,” tugger said. “i need you to take a couple of deep breaths.”

“don’t coddle me,” munk snapped. “you have some explaining to do.”

“i found this cat and macavity near the back entrance,” tugger said. “now if you excuse me, i’d like to ask him some questions.”

munk paused for a minute to think. he took a deep breath (although he hated ever taking orders from his younger brother), and eventually nodded.

“fine,” munk said. “take him to old deuteronomy.”

tugger considered protesting, but thought better of it. if anyone did know anything about this strange cat, it’d be him. he looked at the black cat, who seemed entirely spaced out and lost in his own mind. maybe tugger felt the beginning of pity lodging itself in his heart, or maybe he simply wanted to be done with this whole affair and take his nap. 

with no further excitement, they reached deutoronomy’s den to find him sitting in deep thought. he had one of grizabella's makeshift shawls in his lap, but quickly hid it behind himself. 

“ah, rum tum tugger,” he said, in that deep, comforting voice. “and who’s this?” 

the black cat looked sheepish in the gaze of a clearly powerful leader. he averted his eyes like any sinner in the midst of a miracle, trying to avoid the judgement of the everlasting cat. 

“quaxo,” he said at last, in a timid voice. 

“quaxo,” old deuteronomy repeated. he motioned to tugger to let him go, and despite an eye-roll, he obeyed. quaxo stumbled as he was released, but eventually regained his balance. “come, let me look at you.”

quaxo complied, walking towards him with a shy, but elegant grace about him. deuteronomy surveyed him intensely, from the markings on his face and chest, to the length of his fur. he saw those sparks nestled into his coat, and he smiled. this was a jellicle cat, after all.

“do you know your parents, quaxo?” deutoronomy asked.

“i know you stole them from me,” quaxo said, with a surprising amount of resentment. “but macavity spared me the details.” 

“did we?” deuteronomy asked. “that’s surprising. i don’t remember stealing any parents. what else did macavity tell you?”

“how you exiled him so you could start your reign of terror,” quaxo said, gaining confidence with every syllable. “how you wanted to use me for magic, so you had to kill my parents to get them out of the way. but macavity will come tonight. and your crown will fall.” 

tugger had tried to control it, but with an eruption of giggles, he doubled over from the force of his laughter. quaxo’s cheeks flushed, and deuteronomy allowed himself a small chuckle. but when he saw quaxo’s face, still stern and sad, he coughed, and regained his composure.

“i’m sorry for my son and i’s outburst,” he said as he regained his easy nature. “but we’d never do such a thing. macavity on the other hand...” a complete chill washed over the room, as if only his name was enough to summon macavity’s presence. “he’s wanted for nearly every crime. including the murder of a young couple and the kidnapping of a kit.”

“that doesn’t make any sense,” quaxo said, catching his meaning. “macavity was a good teacher. he helped me learn how to control my powers. everything i know about magic i learned from him. he wouldn't have killed them.”

“but did he teach you how to sing?” deuteronomy asked. “did he hold you when you were scared? did he ask how you were feeling? did he ever offer to help you bury your parents?”

quaxo thought for a moment and saw every awful moment of his life. crying alone in his room, or waking up screaming from nightmares, or trying to sing lullabies to comfort himself back to sleep. he was just a kit then, and he was completely alone. he never felt loved or even respected, only that all encompassing sense of loneliness. maybe... maybe macavity was evil. maybe macavity was responsible for the death of his parents. he never saw macavity as a father, or even a friend. and from the way he could tell tugger and munk and deutoronomy all respected and trusted each other... being with the jellicles felt right, in some sort of cosmic way. did this mean he'd wasted his life following a villain blindly?  
  
tugger watched the black cat, quaxo, as he crumpled onto the ground. deuteronomy knelt down beside him, and held him as he wept. he couldn’t ever imagine the feeling of realizing you were used your entire life. but he knew what it was like to lose a parent. to feel abandoned by the world. and maybe that was why he wasn’t entirely shocked when he felt his own eyes grow watery.

“did you know my parents?” quaxo finally asked.

“yes,” deutoronomy said. “they were good cats. they knew macavity would come to steal you, and so they ran, thinking they could protect you on their own. i’m sad to see they were wrong.” 

“did they love me?” quaxo asked, his voice small.

“of course,” deutoronomy said, remaining calm. “they came to me to ask to give you a name. they wanted to raise you in the jellicle ways, and above all, they wanted to keep you happy and safe.”

“what was my name?” quaxo asked.

“it doesn’t matter now,” deutoronomy said. “your name has been chosen.”

“no,” quaxo said. “this old name was chosen by the monster who killed my parents. what is my name?”

deuteronomy gave quaxo’s paw a squeeze. perhaps there were more ways to be reborn than ascension to the heaviside layer. and if anybody could do it, it would be a magical prodigy like this. with a reassuring smile, he started to speak again.

“mistoffelees,” deutoronomy said. 

and mistoffelees smiled. his fur bristled with that wondrous light. he knew he was home. 

“well, mr mistoffelees,” tugger said, smiling as he walked towards them. “welcome to the tribe. allow me to show you around.” 

with a sniffle and a nod, mistoffelees wiped the last of his tears with his paw. he was ready for his new jellicle life to begin.


End file.
